things I figured out when my mother died – how to get paperwork organised if the death occurred at home

While you and your family/friends may be able to easily TELL that your loved one is dead, remember that we live in a world highly affected by documentitis and it is therefore prudent to organise a document declaring death.

I recommend calling a doctor as soon as possible – try to do this within the first 15 minutes. Request him/her to come over to your house along with their letterhead and seal to write out a statement of death.

I say first 15 minutes because bodies tend to decompose pretty steadily and you may want to begin preserving your loved one’s body in a refrigeration unit as soon as possible. I also say first 15 minutes because when you realise a person is dead, emotions run high and /or a complete numb shock may take over and you just sometimes need a few minutes to grieve.

When the doctor arrives, he/she will need to check the person before pronouncing them as dead. Once the person is declared dead, the doctor will proceed to write out a statement on the letterhead. You may be required to supply details such as name of the dead person, their date of birth, name of parents and/or spouse, house address,  approximate time of death and nature of illness (if any). You may not necessarily know all these details - that's fine, just do your best to give as much correct information as possible.

In India, this statement of death given by the doctor is one of the things you will be required to submit when applying for a formal death certificate, which is issued by municipal authorities. Note that if your loved one passes away in a hospital, the hospital will issue a death summary that you should submit.   I will write a separate post explaining the procedure for obtaining a formal death certificate.
I hope this has helped you. I would be happy to edit and update this post - let me know in the comments section if I have missed out any crucial information. 

surreal

The day my mother died, there was a moment in which she was lying on her bed, connected to the ventilator and my dad and I were with her. My dad was undergoing dialysis, I was administrating it for him. It was just the three of us in the bedroom. Like it used to be, several years ago.

The same three people.

So much change.

It felt surreal.

socks

A few weeks before my mother died, I lent her a pair of socks, which she wore until she went to the hospital for the very last time. I found them the other day and put them in the wash. I’m wearing them today and I feel like somehow the more I wear them, the less of her will remain inside them.

 

But I’m now greedy about these socks, I feel like they are the pair my mother and I share. I want to wear them and yet I don't. I don't want them to tear. But they're just socks, and they were a gift from a man who is now .... well.

***

Sigh. They're just socks. In all likelihood, one of them is going to disappear into the black hole of our washing machine. The end is predictable.  

Sometimes I wish emotional associations were just as straightforward.

expressions

I guess somewhere along the way life threw me so much, I ran out of words. 

stuff of life

We moved houses last week.

My mother put me in charge of sorting out my father's things. And I put myself in charge of making sure he moves with least stress.
Sigh. What can I say about my relationship with my dad?

I don't know if words will ever cover it.

But let me tell you about my dad's things - books, papers, books, clothes, books, electronic gadgets, books, visiting cards, books, sports equipment, books, phone bills, books, bank statements, books, credit card statements, books, share certificates, books, take away menus, books, keys, books, spare car parts, books, petrol bills, books, old boarding cards, books, music, books, books, books, books, books. 

Sigh. 

Sorting out my dad's things reminded me of the person he used to be. 

I want to write it out, because it is so easy to forget. So easy to forget the person Dad used to be. So easy to forget amidst the exhaustion of dialysis and chemotherapy and the new personalities we all seem to have developed over the past few years.

So let me tell you about my dad.

He used to be happy.
He used to travel all over the world. 
He was famous in his field of work. 
He liked to network. 
He enjoyed eating out and he enjoyed listening to music.
He used to play tennis. 
He used to go camping. 
He tried to change the world. 
He excelled. 
He liked to read. 
He read everything.

Let me tell you about my dad. He lives in a world of silence. I can't seem to reach out to him anymore. Either I can't or I am too afraid to try. Or I am exhausted. I know I feel exhausted. 

Chronic illnesses can kill your soul before they kill your body. 

It's painful to watch.

Watching a person crumble into silence is hard. Watching over and protecting their things, the things of their life that once used to be is like a prison of emotions. 

I threw so many of my dad's things away this time - I threw them away because I know I won't be able to after he is dead. 

And I threw them away because I know my mother and sister never will. I threw them away to protect them. I threw them away to protect myself. 





 

cancer and workplace policies

Each employee in my office gets 20 days of paid recreational leave a year. 

Each employee in my office also gets 10 days of paid sick leave a year. This can be claimed if employees can produce medical certificates that show that they themselves were sick or that they had to care for a sick person in their family. 

My workplace defines family as spouse and children. 

I told my workplace that I need leave to care for my mother who has cancer.  They told me to file it under recreational leave. It's not sick leave because, OBVIOUSLY my mother is not my family. 

Obviously, visiting the chemotherapy day care centre, endless chasing up with insurance guys, going for follow up tests and doctors appointments is pure recreation. 

I'm almost so jealous of how refreshed I'm going to feel after each such session.  

****************

My mother goes for chemotherapy roughly once a month. After each session, she needs about 10 days rest before she feels normal. 

My mother needs her job because it comes with a health insurance cover which we otherwise cannot afford.

My mother offered to work from home on her toughest days, usually the 10 days  immediately after each chemo cycle, because this is when the side effects of the medication really kick in, leaving the person exhausted. 

Her workplace said no. They said no because if they allow one person to work from home, apparently EVERYONE will want to start working from their homes on their sick days. 

Also, apparently, if you want to get paid, you need to physically be in the office. So, no salary for the 10 days of rest that she needs .... the 10 days when her mind needs distraction the most, to be able to fight of the depression that chemotherapy can bring and the very 10 days that she offered to do her work from home. 

*********

I'm wondering who these idiots are, who formulate workplace sick leave policies. It is safe to say that most people who do this kind of job DO in fact know a person who has had chemotherapy. I'm wondering how it is possible to be aware of how cancer works and STILL be okay with handing down these policies with a firm rap to their fellow colleagues. 

I'm wondering when it became normal to be desensitized.   

chemotherapy shrinks bodies

Last month, my mother cried all the way to the radiologist. 

When I hugged her, I felt how small she was, just like a child. 

I tried to calm her. 

It felt like the first day of school.